All We Really Need Is Us
by phantasmic-reylo
Summary: Ben Solo lives with his friend & roommate Armitage Hux. Armitage Hux is as pretentious as it gets. Ben Solo is completely uninterested in Hux's fancy snobby elitist New Year's Eve party... until he meets Rey. Mature rating. Explicit will come later!


**1\. Preparations**

Armitage Hux dressed himself in his finest black tuxedo. Of course he would. An occasion such as New Year's Eve would not go by without the pretentious ass draping himself in expensive Gucci... or was it Armani? Bought of course. Hux would not embarrass himself by hiring a suit. No, it had to be owned.

A shirt as crisp and white as snow, pressed perfectly, adorned his tall, slim torso, while the lengthy coat tails covered his rear end. Smart black leather shoes enclosed his feet, shined to perfection, probably costing about as much as the tux. His fiery hair was slicked back and his face as smooth as a baby's butt, owing to a fresh shave.

Ben could hear soft jazz music drifting into the living room from the kitchen, playing on the battered old radio unit which miraculously still seemed to work, and the clinking of champagne glasses as his ginger roommate prepared for the evening ahead.

To say that Ben was a total contrast to Armitage was an obvious understatement. Slouched on their grey corduroy sofa, dark hair a mass of lazy, messy curls, Ben was dressed in a pair of joggers and an oversized hoodie, playing Xbox while Hux ran around setting up the apartment.

"Fuck! Motherfuckers!" Ben groaned out, having lost yet another match on his game. He was beginning to feel tired and irritated and wondered why he carried on playing when all it did was worsen his mood. If he didn't occupy himself with his games console, however, he knew his roommate would end up roping him into helping with preparations and he really wasn't in the mood for doing that.

He was actually surprised Hux had not nagged at him to get off the game and "be a little more helpful" with things. Maybe Hux knew it really wasn't his thing, but he wasn't usually in the habit of letting Ben off the hook so easily.

As if on cue, Hux marched through the living area, clearly in a mood with Ben, "For goodness sake, are you STILL on that blasted game? Can't you at least try to help out a little, you know how important this night is."

Ben rolled his eyes as Hux fussed around him, picking up old snack wrappers and empty Red Bull cans which had been left lying around, sighing as he went. A sigh which suggested cleaning up after Ben was a regular occurrence, yet not something he was ever going to get used to.

Ben knew what Armi was probably thinking; that he was a lazy layabout. But the way Ben saw it, it was as much his apartment as it was Hux's. He paid half the rent so why shouldn't he be allowed to do as he pleased in his own home?

Armitage walked over to the utility closet, retrieving a hand-held Dustbuster and began hoovering up the crumbs around Ben's feet. Ben snorted, his attention fully fixed on his game, not caring to even move as Hux hoovered the couch cushions around him.

Hux wanted the place to look like a palace and it was seriously inconveniencing Ben's game time. He felt tired just watching Armi bustle about frantically. He had no interest whatsoever in the night ahead and would've been far happier to lay on the couch eating takeout, watching trash television and jerking himself off to end the night before pulling a throw over himself and eventually passing out.

But it wasn't to be. Ben lifted his legs off the floor, as if to help Hux but soon nestled back into the sofa, despite the fact Hux wasn't finished cleaning.

"Ben!" he groaned, infuriated at Ben's purposeful unhelpfulness.

"What?" Ben asked coolly, a small smirk on his lips.

Armitage stood up straight, shooting Ben a look of disbelief. "Are you serious? Why are you deliberately trying to sabotage me? Look at you... look at the filth you live in. How can you even stand yourself? I mean... no offence Ben, but I can smell you from the kitchen. Can't you at least go take a shower or something, I mean..."

"ALRIGHT! Jesus Christ!" His roommate's voice was beginning to go through him and he'd now gotten to the point where he just needed him to shut up. He got up, flinging his Xbox controller onto the couch and storming off to the bathroom. "Whatever it takes to shut your damn mouth up!" Ben shouted as he strode up the stairs.

"Please dress yourself appropriately." Hux called out, "We have important guests coming over. And wash that mess you call hair!"

"Whatever." Ben bellowed in reply.

A satisfied smile spread across the redhead's mouth, accompanied by a happy sigh, "Well... finally," he muttered, despite Ben no longer being within earshot. He carried on, putting away the games controller and switching off the console and television before he continued hoovering up the crumbs on the floor and couch before removing the couch cushions, fluffing, plumping and rearranging them.

He stood back and pondered for a moment, before raising a hand and pointing a forefinger into the air, a lightbulb moment. He returned to the kitchen and opened the cleaning cupboard to retrieve the Febreze, before marching back to the couch and spraying it generously. He straightened up again to admire his handiwork. "There we go. So much better. How that pig can lounge in his own filth, I shall never understand!" he sneered.

With Ben out of the way, Armitage finished getting the apartment ready for his forthcoming party. He put up the last of the decorations, checked on the canapés and lastly brought in the ice buckets and trays of champagne glasses He'd just about managed to keep the rest of the place in order despite his chaotic roommate.

"Please let tonight go without a hitch," Armitage muttered under his breath, still fussing around, making everything just so.

Ben returned, fresh from the shower, only half dressed, roughing up his hair with a towel which was half draped around his bare shoulders. He walked down into the living room to find Hux dusting the tops of the picture frames with a mini fold away feather duster, a sight which tickled Ben to no end. "Hahaha, seriously? I doubt your fancy socialite friends are gonna look at the tops of the photo frames, you pretentious ass!"

Armitage got into the nooks and crannies, examining them closely as he did, ensuring they were up to his standards. He stood back, straightening the positions of them as he spoke, without looking at his friend, "It would do you no harm whatsoever to employ some elegance, a bit of class, some poise perhaps." Image and status were everything to Hux and it would do nothing for his reputation if his friends thought he lived in filth.

Hux would have preferred Ben out of the way for the night, but he knew it wasn't really an option. While many people would be partying with friends, others would be visiting their families, and let's just say that neither was really an option for Ben given the problematic relationship he had with his parents and not many friends to speak of. So, Armitage had little choice and he supposed, deep down, he felt a little sorry for Ben. Which was why he hadn't pushed him to go elsewhere for the night.

Ben rolled his eyes as he continued into the living room. "Yeah and it'd do you no harm to get that giant stick out of your ass for once."

Hux retracted his duster, stowing it away in his pocket before turning around to look at Ben. He recoiled, sneering and tutting as if the sight of Ben's naked torso physically hurt him to look at. "For goodness sake, put your tits away" he huffed as he breezed past Ben, heading for the kitchen.

Ben smirked as he followed his friend, still towel-drying his hair, "Does my body make you uncomfortable?" Ben teased, probably a little too proud of his physique, a consequence of working out way too much.

"You know it does! Now go and finish getting dressed," Hux replied without turning to face him. He carried on preparing the canapés and finger food for his forthcoming guests. Ben threw his towel on the floor in front of the washing machine before darting away again.

Armitage stopped in his tracks, bared his teeth and took a deep breath, before rubbing his fingers to his temples and slowly chanted his personal mantras, "I am in control of my actions and emotions. I am in control of my life. I will not let the stupidity of others overthrow me. I am strong. I am confident. I can do anything I set my mind to. Tonight will be a success." He breathed in and out until he felt calmer and then he scooped up Ben's old towel and threw it into the washing machine before continuing his preparations.

A quarter of an hour later, Ben re-emerged from his room dressed in his finery. His was hired, unlike his snob of a roommate. Ben would never waste money on such a thing as an expensive suit. Why bother? There were so many better and cooler things for spending money on. He grudged paying for the suit hire as it was.

This time, Armitage stopped what he was doing to give Ben his full attention, to check him over and give the final seal of approval. He walked over to Ben and put his hands on Ben's arms, "Now this is more like it. Gosh, you should definitely dress like this more often. It suits you." Hux complimented, as he brushed down Ben's arms, making sure there were no stray hairs or debris of any kind on his clothing. "Think how good you'd feel, and how popular you might even become."

Ben tugged at his bowtie, feeling strangled by it, "How could this possibly make anyone feel good? And… I don't need popularity. This is stifling, how can you even stand it?" Ben looked physically revulsed.

"Needs must, Ben."

It was as much a mystery to Ben as it was to anyone else why he did as his roommate told him. Ben thought Armi could seriously do with chilling the fuck out, but he was still his friend. They'd been friends since college. The two men could not be more different, yet somehow, they complemented each other. Ben wasn't into the whole fancy party thing, but he knew it must have been important to Armi seeing how he'd been dusting the tops of the picture frames, for fuck's sake. Ben was also sure he'd seen Armi cleaning the corners and cracks of the floors with an old toothbrush earlier in the day.

As Hux picked at imaginary flecks of imperfections and dirt _(at this point, Ben did start to wonder if Armi had some kind of obsessive compulsiveness, rather than just being a perfectionist, or did the two go hand in hand?) _, Ben asked, "Why is this night so important to you?"

"You know why." Hux answered, not even looking at Ben, flitting around him, straightening up his trouser legs, and examining his shoes.

"But… _why _? Why do things need to be perfect? What's wrong with imperfections? Why do you care so much?" Ben had gone through most of his life feeling like an outsider, perfection an unattainable goal, which he'd accepted at a young age. He rather liked his imperfections, didn't care if people accepted him or not, just hoping that one day, the right person would love him, warts and all.

"There, **now** you're presentable." Armitage announced after he'd finished fussing, straightening up and carrying on with his food preparations.

"People need to see my hosting skills," Hux began explaining, "it will be very beneficial to be seen in this type of setting. Imagine, being the talk of the town, everyone discussing this party for weeks afterward." Armitage had a twinkle in his eye at the notion.

"But… literally, _why_? I mean, no offence but… Who cares?"

Hux thought for a moment, "Your torment on this has led me to believe…" he paused, turning to look at his friend, "I really don't know why, there is simply this thing inside of me. This… **need**. I cannot explain it beyond that."

Ben thought about the fact that Armitage had been an unwanted child. How his father had gotten his housemaid pregnant when he was married to someone else. How terribly Brendol Hux and his wife had treated the housemaid. It baffled Ben, how the wife had stuck by her shitty, abusive husband who clearly seduced or, God forbid, even forced the housemaid? Ben could barely believe the story when he first heard it, but the harsh realities never really got easier to swallow.

Of course, the maid was blamed, fired and kicked out, left homeless and pregnant. Having nowhere else to go and no other family, she'd ended up in a homeless shelter, having Armitage taken from her and placed with his natural father and his wife after he was born. Mr and Mrs Hux had raised him out of obligation, nothing more.

Ben reflected on how Armi's childhood had been a shitty one, filled with abuse and neglect, with daily beatings from his father and being ignored or ridiculed at best from his stepmother, always ready and waiting to tell him he was nothing more than a bastard, nothing but trash just like his whore mother.

Ben pondered this, soon putting two and two together about Armi's obsessive need for acceptance, perhaps to prove in some bizarre backward way that he was in fact a worthwhile human being, and in particular from the types of people Armi associated with. If he nailed that, maybe he could prove, even to himself, that he was so much more than an unwanted bastard child.

Armitage had set up a table of drinks by the front door, where he stood welcoming his guests with a glass of champagne, who had been gradually arriving for the past hour. Men in tuxedos, women in overpriced satin, silk and charmeuse dresses, adorning hairstyles fit for royalty, the apartment soon a hustle and bustle of diamantes, bare legs and high heels, Ralph Lauren shirts and bowties.

Ben hovered on the side-lines, uninterested in engaging or interacting with the elitist snobs who were simply invading his home and personal space. He stood uncomfortably, one hand in his pocket, the other intermittently tugging at his bowtie, the snug fit of it strangling him. It was at that moment as he stood looking around his now barely recognisable home, observing these strangers sitting on his couch, eating tiny stupid things like salmon blinis and tomato tartlets, debating what his next move would be when he saw her walking in.

Rey. A girl who was friends with one of Armi's associates, a Mr Poe Dameron. Was she just a friend? Or a girlfriend? A squeeze? A fuck buddy? Ben didn't know much about her, he'd only seen her once before at a ridiculous dinner thing he had agreed to attend with Armitage at Poe's house. That was over a year previously. Ben had gotten way too drunk to have spoken to her. Luckily for him, Ben wasn't the 'loud' type of drunk. He drank when he was nervous, shy or outwith his comfort zone. But he stayed just as introverted, if not more so, when he got plastered. He'd definitely put it away that night, probably due to boredom and to blot out the monotony of it all.

Ben recounted the memory, almost as if to absolutely _make sure _he hadn't made a fool of himself in front of her. He was certain he hadn't. Regardless, as she walked into the apartment, he sucked in a breath, straightened up, puffed his chest out and cleared his throat before running a hand through his hair, the shiny locks passing easily through his fingers. All subconsciously, of course.

He swallowed hard while his eyes roamed her body. She had shoulder-length dark hair, lightly curled, a slim, toned physique, complemented by a tight black party dress cut to just above the knee. Ben was unsure of the material. A classy yet slightly risqué number which hugged her small frame just perfectly, Ben thought. Without realising, he'd fallen into a trance, the kind you see in movies where everything around the main character moves in slow motion, barely blinking as he watched her take a drink from Armitage, his eyes studying every crucial detail of her dress... how the cut shaped her so nicely, the material clinging to her ass, the hem of the dress ending in the middle of her thighs, accentuating her long legs. Ben imagined running his fingers up the back of those legs, slowly closing the gap between his hand and the hem of that dress...

His trance broke as he realised she'd come to the party with someone, another guy, whose arm was linked through hers. A guy who wasn't Poe... Okay, so perhaps her and Poe weren't together, but now Ben had to figure out where she was with this new guy. He noticed him chatting and smiling to Hux as he came in and Ben wondered why he didn't know who the hell the guy was. He made a mental note to ask Armi about him later.

As Rey casually walked by, she flashed him one of her amazing smiles and said "Hi Ben..." without stopping as her... date?... carried on into the living room. His heart flipped, rising up from his chest into his throat, causing him to stutter, "Uh... H-hi..." a few seconds too late and out of her earshot.

Ben closed his eyes, shook his head and sighed at his timing, curled his fists and gave a filthy look to Rey's date before muttering a low "fuck" under his breath in frustration. _I need a drink_, he thought. That was the only thing that was gonna get him through the night, he decided.


End file.
